The Chronicles of What?
by Reiven
Summary: It's a cold day in Potions with Snape being crankier than usual, taking points even from the Slytherins. When Harry goes to retrieve his wand, he discovers something unimaginable...horrific. He finds Snape...
1. Snape's Doing What?

**Disclaimer**: Harry and company belong to the talented J.K. Rowling. This story is the creation of my unorthodox and sometimes crazy mind. None of this is based on anybody, similarities of any kind is purely coincidental.

It's a cold day in Potions with Snape being crankier than usual; taking points left and right, even from the Slytherins. When Harry goes to retrieve his wand, he discovers something unimaginable…awful…horrific. He finds Snape doing…

This was previously titled Snape's Doing What? Due to the fact that it is no longer going to be three one-shots, but one three-shot, I've decided to change the title to The Chronicles of What?

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**The Chronicles of What?  
**_Part One: Snape's Doing What?_

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Twas was a foul day in the dungeons for the 5th year Gryffindors, for Snape, who was usually in a bad mood, was in an even worse mood this morning. Points were lost left and right, none were spared, not even the Slytherins. All were forced to suffer the wrath of an extremely peeved off Snape, some, worse than others. This is true for one Gryffindor in particular, one who goes by the name of--

"_Potter_!" Snape's scowl deepened as he stomped over to the table where Harry and Ron were preparing their potion.

"Y-yes, sir," Harry replied, obviously startled at the sudden anger that was directed at him.

"Potter, how many times have I told you to do something about your hair?" he crossed his arms over his chest and stared down Harry.

"Umm…none?"

"Precisely; I should not have to state what is obviously a mistake in itself."

"Uh…" confusion was clearly seen on Harry's face.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for that regurgitated Kneazels's fur you have on your head. Do something about it, its distracting me from my work," he turned away with a snarl of discontent. "I expect you to have it fixed by next class, Potter."

"Stupid git," Ron whispered immediately into Harry's ear just as Snape was out of earshot. "What's crawling up his arse today?"

"Shush, Ron. We've already lost thirty-seven points, and I don't want that number to increase," Hermione hissed at him from hers and Seamus's table behind them.

"She's right, Ron," Harry went back to their work. "It's better to wait out the storm than go against it. It doesn't pay to take up after the salmon."

Ron cast an incredulous look at Harry. "Harry, mate…what are you on and where can I get some of it?" He moved a hand up as if to take Harry's temperature.

"_Weasley, put your hand down this instance! Ten points from Gryffindor_!" Snape's voice came bellowing from the back room. "_Miss Parkinson, let go of Mr. Malfoy's arm immediately. Two points from Slytherin!"  
_  
"I told you, Ron," Hermione scolded him.

"B-but…"

"Do your work, Ron," Harry whispered under his breath as he turned to his potion, a spluttering Ron following suit.

- - - - -

"Argh! What the bloody hell is wrong with Snape today?" Ron fumed as he, Harry and Hermione made their way to the dormitories.

"I don't know, maybe he's sick," Hermione picked up her pace with the two taller boys.

"Sick? Like…in the head or something? I thought that much was obvious already," Ron stretched his arms over his head, smoothing out the kinks in his limbs as a result of hunching over his cauldron for too long. "Can't believe he took ten points from Neville for having not dotting his 'I's', honestly, the great wanker needs to get himself a snog session or something. I heard the Astronomy Tower's free this coming Monday."

"Don't forget those twelve points he took from Lavender for '_using too much complexion charms_," Harry added, lowering his voice to do a very bad Snape imitation.

"Good one mate. And five points from Hermione for being a know-it-all. But I think the best one was taking two points from Malfoy for being too blonde. Did you see the look on his face? That was priceless."

"Oh, bollocks," Harry stopped abruptly. "I left my wand on the table."

"Where? In the dungeon?" Ron was munching on the cupcake he had saved from breakfast.

"No, in the other potions classroom," Harry rolled his eyes and he turned on his heels. "I need to get it before Snape decides to use it as a scratching stick. I'll just be a minute, you guys go on ahead."

"Are you sure, mate? I think there's an unwritten rule somewhere about being with Snape without parental guidance…or witnesses."

"Don't worry," brushing off his words, Harry took off running in the direction of the dungeons.

_Meanwhile…_

"Gryffindors…" Snape shook his head as he worked to remove some black gunk that had splattered across the table and over seats from where Neville's potion had over flowed. As he passed by the table that had been previously occupied by Harry and Ron, he stopped abruptly in his step, looking at the object that lay unmoving near the far corner of the table. He bent down and reached across the length of the table and plucked up the wand. "Potter's, I assume," a smirk flashed across his face as he took out his own wand. "Let's see what spell the great Harry Potter has been casting lately."

Muttering a spell, Snape's eyes widened a fraction as he came to a sudden realization. Placing the wand back down on the table, he disappeared in a swish of cloak into the backroom, he returned a few minutes later with flat, black box grasped firmly in his hands.

- - - - -

"I hope Snape doesn't take more points for being forgetful," Harry muttered, clammy hands gripping the brass knob. "Well, let's just hope for the best," he closed his eyes and pushed open the door.

"What do you want, Potter?"

Harry opened his eyes and saw Snape sitting at his desk, as if he was already expecting him. "I forgot my wand, and –"

"I have it right here," he motioned towards the wand lying motionlessly on his desk.

Harry walked over and picked up the wand, "T-thank you, sir," he stuttered, the look Snape had on his face unnerved him, "I'll just be on my way then," he said nervously and turned to leave.

"One moment, Potter."

"Yes, sir?"

"I just want to tell you that I had cast the _prior incantato _on your wand, and might I say, discovered a very interesting spell you've been casting. Would you care to explain yourself?"

"Err ... umm …" Harry shifted nervously from foot to foot, "It's like this … I mean … I couldn't help it … nobody's seen me do it, I swear. Please don't tell the others," Harry looked pleadingly at Snape, who just smirked in return.

"So tell me, Potter, just how good are you at this? Humour me, and I might consider keeping this to myself," Snape had an evil glint in his eye.

"Honestly, sir?" When Snape nodded, he continued, "well … I'm not perfect with the movements, but I dare say, pretty bloody good," Harry looked smug.

"I have to admit, I, myself have experimented with this for a few years now too, but ... performing it all by myself isn't nearly as thrilling," he looked directly at Harry.

"Are you saying … you?" Snape nodded silently, "well, I'll be. But … it could be fun, I mean, it wouldn't hurt to try."

At his reply, Snape stood and walked over to the box he had taken out and opened the lid.

"Get into position," Snape ordered. They both stood facing each other roughly about ten feet apart. "Ready?" when Harry nodded, he took out his wand and cast a spell that Harry was only too familiar with.

The quiet of the dungeon was broken by a strange humming sound, it soon got louder, and louder. Harry smiled evilly and made his move, as did Snape

_A la tuhuelpa legria Macarena._

They raised both hands straight in front of them.

_Que tuhuelce paralla legria cosabuena._

They both touched their right hand to the left shoulder, and the left to the right. After that they touched their right hand to the left hip and left to right.

_A la tuhuelpa legria macarena Eeeh, macarena._

They uncrossed their arms and touched the right hand to the right butt- cheek and left hand to the left butt-cheek; they shook their booty a little.

_A-Hai!_

They jumped about a foot in the air.

Snape wiped his brow with his sleeve, "Finite incantatem," the music stopped playing immediately.

"I have waited too long to enjoy that," He put away the box and looked at Harry, "you'd better return to the dormitories. Weasley might throw a hissy if I keep you any longer."

"Yes sir," Harry turned towards the door, stopped, and looked back at Snape with a smile on his face, "that was fun, if I may say so sir."

"I might have to agree with you there, Potter. Because you have been my partner in this, I will regretfully give Gryffindor ten points."

"Thank you, sir."

Harry continued walking when he called back.

"And Potter -"

"Yes, sir?"

"- this never happened," he said firmly.

"What never happened?" He smirked and walked out, closing the door behind him.

As the door clicked shut, Snape melted into his chair and let out a heave of long awaited fulfilment.

**- - - - -**

In the dark hallway, when Harry had walked around the corner and out of sight, a shadow in the corner moved. As it slithered closer to the flames of the torches, a vague shimmering of silver hair could be seen.

"Interesting," he looked towards the corner where Harry had disappeared and back to the door of the dungeon, "very interesting."

_End Part 1._

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	2. Draco Saw What?

_Standard disclaimer applies._

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**The Chronicles of What?  
**_Part Two: Draco Saw What?_

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"Fhawe's Fawwy?"

"Don't talk with your mouth full, Ron. It's disgusting," Hermione scolded, scrunching her nose in disapproval.

Ron swallowed and asked again. "Where's Harry?"

"I don't know. The last time I saw him was yesterday when he came back to the dormitories. He did look frightfully cheerful to be coming from the dungeons, didn't he?" She took a bite out of her sausage.

"You're right," Ron looked thoughtful for a moment and suddenly blurted out. "I know, maybe he saw Snape doing something awful and Snape caught him. So, he '_Obliviated' _Harry a little too much, and now, poor Harry's skipping rope on Dumbledore's table in nothing but his knickers," Ron said seriously. "The question now is: what did Harry see?" Ron raised an eyebrow at Hermione quizzically before bursting into laughter.

Hermione also could barely hold a snicker. "I was being serious, Ron."

"So was I. You know 'Mione, you need to lighten up a bit. C'mon, look at the possibilities, there's Snape,"--he motioned with his hands--"posing in front of the mirror wearing nothing but his pink polka-dotted knickers, when suddenly,"--he changed to a tone of suspense--"poor Harry walks in. '_Bloody hell_,' says Harry," he imitated Harry voice. "As he's subjected to the horror that unfolds before of his eyes."

Hermione couldn't hold it anymore and burst into laughter followed by Ron. By this time every other person in the Great Hall had thought they had gone bonkers.

"Or maybe," Hermione added between laughs. "Harry saw Snape doing the Macarena."

Ron stopped laughing suddenly.

"What's a Macarena?"

"Oh, it's just a muggle dance that was really popular a couple of years back. It was a really embarrassing dance, I still can't believe people used to do it," She laughed. "Anyway, I highly doubt that Snape would be caught dead doing it."

"Oi, 'Arry, over here." Ron suddenly called out as Harry walked in.

"Hi, guys."

"Where were you, Harry?" Hermione asked. " Ron was starting to think Snape had done something to you yesterday, judging by the way you came back."

"Aha…ha…you're talking nonsense." Harry said nervously and took sip of pumpkin juice.

"Yeah, did you see something, Harry? Hermione reckons you saw Snape doing something called the Macarena--oi, oi, oi!" Ron stood up abruptly, dripping from head to toe of pumpkin juice.

"Aaa…uhh…" Harry sat there like a fish, with his mouth opening and closing while still dripping of left over pumpkin juice after the rest he had sprayed all over Ron. "I…I…I…you see…Ha…ha…haaa," Harry, who was speechless, started to laugh nervously. This time everyone in the Great Hall had turned to watch the commotion.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Hermione put a hand on his shoulder.

"What the bloody hell, Harry?" Ron tried to shake the excess juice from his clothes.

Harry stood up, and walked stiffly out the Hall without saying a word, his hands swinging at his side like a soldier.

"Blimey!" Ron stared at Harry's retreating form. "Of his chump, that one?"

"Ron," She looked exasperatedly at him.

"I told you he was acting strange."

"You're right. I guess an investigation is in order," Hermione looked in the direction Harry had left.

"Yes, but first thing's first. I need a shower. There's no way I'm going to give Snape any more reason to take points from Gryffindor," he then imitated Snape. "' _Weasley, why do you smell like juice? Five hundred points from Gryffindor_.'" They both then left for the dormitories.

Meanwhile, at the Slytherin table, a certain blonde was smirking, his eyes shining with maliciously.

Transfiguration and Divinations that day passed by excruciatingly slow for Harry. Between attempting not to arouse any suspicion from Ron and Hermione, trying not to get detention and hoping he didn't die _too _horribly at the hands of Trelawneys', Harry managed to get by unscathed…so far.

Next stop, Potions.

The trio managed to make it to the dungeons before Snape. There, Harry took his usual seat next to Ron. Hermione sat in front of them with Neville.

"Do you notice something unusual, guys?" Harry asked while looking around the room.

"What? Oh, you mean the ferret boy?" Ron looked joyous, "Maybe ol' you-know-who finally did something right and decided to snuff 'em."

Unfortunately for Ron, the ferret in question decided to waltz through the door at that exact moment.

Draco casually strolled down the aisle and took a seat next to Harry. "Morning, Potter," He smirked.

"Bugger off, Malfoy," Harry narrowed his eyes as Draco leaned calmly in his seat.

"What do you want, ferret?" Ron hissed from next to Harry.

"Want? Why I want nothing. Can't some people just act civilized once in a while? Of course, what would a raggedy Weasley know about being civil," Harry had to hold down Ron to prevent him from lunging at the snickering blonde.

"Don't you have anything else to do, '_Malfoy'_?" Hermione spat at him.

"On the contrary, '_Mudblood', _I don't. But, Potter wants me to stay don't you, Potter?" he smirked at Harry.

"H-hey, d-don't you call H-Hermione names," Neville stood up for Hermione, but one piercing look from Draco was enough to settle him down. He turned his attention to Harry.

"I want you to drop--"

"Tutututut! You might want refrain from finishing that sentence, Potter."

"And why would I want to--" Harry stared wide-eyed at Draco as he began humming a tune, a very familiar tune, that only Harry could hear.

"Harry," Ron waved his hand in front of his face. "Mate, you alright?"

"O-oh!" Harry snapped out of it and just looked directly at Draco.

"What say you, Potter?"

"It's a free country--"

"Wands away," Harry hadn't a chance to finish his sentence as Snape came barging into class, cape billowing. "Open your books to page one hundred and thirty seven. There you will find the instructions on how to make the 'Bryll Potion'. Can anyone here explain to class what are the uses of the Bryll potion, who invented it and how it got its name?" Every Slytherins' and Hermione's hand shot up. "With out looking at the book." And they all went down again. Hermione's hand still stayed up, and to the surprise of everyone in the class, Snape said;

"Granger."

She stood up happily. "The Bryll potion was invented in the eleventh century by a housewitch who wanted to give her husband a special gift when he was appointed Weather Wizard of the year. Using special herbs and flowers, she wanted to make him a solution that would get rid of his crow's feet. But as she was adding the final ingredient to her potion, she accidentally dropped a vial of Lady Lazaroth's every purpose Latrine Liquor and a bag of dung bombs into her cauldron and it exploded. When she finally regained consciousness, she discovered that her potion, originally meant to be green, had turned milky white and smelled alluringly like sweets. The first thing she uttered was 'Brilliant!' and that's where it got its name. This potion has many purposes. It can be used as a moisturizing solution or a make-up charm remover, but is more commonly used as a hair potion." Hermione preened as she finished.

"Good," Snape said after a moment of silence. "Ten points for Gryffindor."

Sharp intakes of breath could be heard as Snape turned to his table and took seat.

"Did you hear that, mate?" Ron, disbelievingly asked Harry. "Or am I already going nuts?"

"I heard it too, Ron."

"Well, Snape's in a bloody good mood today, isn't he, Potter? I wonder why," Draco put a hand to his chin and sent a smirk in Harry's direction.

"Sod off, Malfoy."

"What are you waiting for?" Snape bellowed, "Stop talking, and get to work. _Now!_"

They didn't have to be told twice before getting up and collecting the ingredients for the potion.

Class passed by rather smoothly that day. Snape didn't even take points off of Neville when he accidentally poured the Latrine Liquor all over himself in nervousness. When the Gryffindors left the dungeons that day, they were twenty points richer and twice as baffled as when they went in. Harry on the other hand, decided to stay behind for a word with the potions master. After assuring Ron and Hermione that he didn't need to see Madam Pomfrey, he stepped back into class.

"What is it, Potter?"

"Professor Snape, I think we have a problem."

"We?" Snape raised an eyebrow at him.

"Yes, we. I'm afraid that the…umm…thing, we did yesterday…" Harry raised his brows expectantly.

"I don't know what you're babbling about, Potter," Snape said brusquely.

"Malfoy saw us doing it!" Harry blurted out. At the same time, a strangled sound was heard from behind the door, the rustling of clothes and then hurried footsteps heading away from the dungeons.

"Did he?" Snape tried to sound unperturbed but that didn't stop the nervous tick that started at his eye.

"Yes he did," a new voice sounded as a looming shadow emerged from the far left corner.

Snape and Harry turned to the voice, and into the light stepped Draco Malfoy, the smirk that adorned his face looking more malicious then usual.

"Malfoy," Harry narrowed his eyes.

"Mr. Malfoy, what is the meaning of this?"

"Calm down you two, there's no need to get your knickers in a bunch," He held up his hands in defense.

"Don't you think, even for a second, Malfoy, that you have any effect what so ever on my knickers," Harry pointed his finger at Malfoy in defiance.

"Potter, do you realize that that just sounded so horribly gay," Draco snickered. Harry turned to the questioning gaze of Snape's, who shook his head disapprovingly. "Anyway, getting back to the subject of this '_thing'_ you two did yesterday."

"Fine, Draco. What do you want?" Snape crossed his arms.

"Want?" Draco mocked a hurt look, "You think that I would use this to '_blackmail' _you? I'm hurt, Professor. Why, only a lowly, underhanded Slytherin scum would--"

"You are a lowly, underhanded Slytherin scum," Harry interjected.

"Oh, yes. How could I have forgotten," he slapped his forehead mockingly. "Well, lets see, you both now have two choices. I could either tell the entire school of this little hobby of yours and you stand the risk of being ridiculed, scorned and possibly exiled. Or, you could do things for me, and I assure you, this information will never leave this room."

"What kind of things?" Snape said incredulously, Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Well, for starters. Father has been annoyingly insistent that I win the next Quidditch match, so--"

"You could have won the matches before if you didn't lack a little thing called t_alent._"

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. I don't want to brag, Potter, but I'll have you know that not only am I not lacking, my _thing _is anything but little. My _thing_ is massive, some have even labeled it a monstrosity, a danger to society. Unlike you. But still, Potter. You _named_ yours' _talent. _How tacky of you."

"Get back to the point, Draco," Snape interjected before things could get out of hand. Potter already looked on the verge of lunging at his previously favourite student.

"Fine. As I was saying, father wants me to win the next match. But I really can't be bothered with all that training and chasing and concentrating. So…" He looked expectantly at Harry.

"You're asking me to _let_ you win?"

"Let is such a crass word."

"But that is what you mean."

"I never knew you to be so particular about details, Potter. Now, lets not get side-tracked; back to the matter at hand."

"There's more?"

"Are you deficient, Potter? Or course _'there's more'_. Now that we've established the winning the Quidditch match part, moving on. Professor," he had an evil glint in his eye when he turned to Snape. "I understand why you were in such a foul mood, I really can, what with being deprived of that very…ahem…respectable hobby of yours for a long time."

Snape gave him a glare so intense it could have shriveled a Blast Ended Skrewt.

"There's no need to get angry…okay, maybe there is, but that's not the point. The point is that father told me a few, hundred times, about something you had nicked from his trunk back in seventh year. He still nags about it from time to time and its driving Mother and I nutters. So, I would appreciate if you returned it."

"Fine," Snape said through his clenched teeth. He turned away and stormed into his office. A few minutes later he came back carrying a piece of cloth. "Here!" He slammed it onto the table in front of Draco.

Harry reached over and lifted it up by the corners and nearly spluttered. "Knickers?" His eyes gazed disbelievingly at the pair of well-worn, yellow and pink knickers.

"Yes, well…mother says that father used to like to put them on and pose in front of the mirror, sometime hours on end. He became a changed man when they disappeared, unfortunate really," Draco had an unreadable look on his face as he caught sight of the undergarments. "I do hope they're clean."

"Of course," Snape answered hotly, a black cloud lingering above head.

"Knickers?" Harry was still staring wide eyed and slacked jawed at the item in his hands. "Lucius Malfoy, the most feared person in the wizarding world, after Voldemort of course."

"Of course." Draco agreed.

"Nags about his nicked knickers?" Harry had a right mind to be scandalized at the discovery.

"It's the colors," Snape snapped at them looking partially offended, "And the softness, the way it makes you feel, they way the look on you in front of the mirror," He added under his breath but didn't go unheard by Draco.

"Okay, there exists a fine line between information and too much information. This," --he drew a proverbial line-- "is about it," said Draco, pushing the disturbing images out of his mind. "But seeing as how father might be too busy to come to the match next week. I'll cancel the first Potter. Oh, and one last thing. I'd like to see you two perform the dance for me, it'll be good for a laugh or two."

"What dance?"

"What other dance could I mean? The Tango, Potter you stupid git? The dance. _The_ dance that got you two into this mess in the first place."

"Oh," Harry looked at Snape, and Snape looked at Harry. They both then looked murderously at Draco. "Fine. And that's it?"

"Yes, that's it. Except for the being my slaves for the entire year," he smirked at Snape. "You too, Professor Snape."

"Excuse me?"

"Well, you don't have to agree, although, I don't know what would happen if I _accidentally_ said it to Pansy, and Pansy _accidentally_ told--"

"Fine," The answered simultaneously.

"Don't forget the potion, Potter. I suggest you use some too, Professor."

Thus, Harry Potter and Severus Snape, infamous in their own right, were forced into humiliation for that fiend, Draco Malfoy; with their hair slicked back and plastered to their heads, they could have been mistaken for being triplets with different coloured hair.

Draco clapped when the music finally stopped. "That has been fun. Unfortunately, I must take my leave. A very important appointment to keep at the Astronomy Tower. I mustn't forget this," he picked up his father's knickers with the tip of his wand and put it in his pocket. "You two have a good day now." He walked out the door, a smug look on his face. "I look forward to your first day of service. Cheers."

Harry and Snape glared at the retreating form of Draco then looked at each other. They shared a malicious look and both nodded at the silent plan.

Draco Malfoy was going to pay.

**End Part Two.**

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"_Don't you think, even for a second, Malfoy, that you have any effect what so ever on my knickers," _- Kat, 10 Things I Hate About you.

Thanks to those who had reviewed this when it was posted as a one-shot.

Snape's and Remmy's girl, Roses-r-red, Marauder Pawsly, Trillium, Veld, Xianghua and Lady Lestrange.


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